


Game of Thrones drabbles

by Diaphenia



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, Gen, bowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:58:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of GoT drabbles, reposted in one place</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Index

[Bowling league](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4576035/chapters/10422258)

[Prom](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4576035/chapters/10422438/)


	2. Bowling League

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stars-inthe-sky tagged this post: _the cool t hing about bowling AUs is that you can just be like “imagine [character] bowling” and thats…the whole joke. thats sufficient. like: imagine stannis baratheon bowling. i dont need to add anything to that_ with _#now imagining stannis baratheon bowling#diaphenia#would you please write this?#like a clash of kings as a really cutthroat bowling tournament?_ so I posted [this](http://diaphenia.tumblr.com/post/101213614124/trick-or-treat) two days later

Stannis Baratheon looked around the Westeros bowling alley with disgust. Did no one understand what was at stake here? Clearly they did not.

His elder brother Bob was at the bar, making eyes at the bartender despite his wife, also at the bar, also clearly in her cups. His younger brother Renly was watching videos on his phone, eating jerky, dressed in ridiculous colors. And the Stark boy, hardly even old enough to vote, was practicing with the seriousness his father had once brought to the lane, but his form was awful. His mother, Cate, was coaching him, but from the looks of things, she was just as bad a coach for her son as she’d been for her husband.

The tournament was starting in less than twenty minutes, and regulations stated it was time for anyone participating in the Clash of Kings to be at their lane. Stannis had been in his lane, shoes tightened, ball polished, and ready since at least fifteen minutes before they were even required to be there, but that was the difference between him and competition; he had rigorous discipline, and they were all failures before they’d even tried. Not that anyone seemed to be trying particularly hard.

Melisandre stopped by his lane. “You’re going to win this,” she said. “For our Lord.”

Indeed, Stannis knew he’d been blessed with talents in order to convert the unfaithful, starting with his fellow bowling brothers. The two of them knelt next to the chairs and prayed loudly, to demonstrate how best to do so.

“Stan,” Renly said.

“Don’t call me—“

“You’ve got to stop bringing down the party like this.”

“Just because you’re in league with the devil—“

“Not the devil, the Peaches. My bowling league is the Peaches.”

Surely, this was a test. 

Renly smirked. 

“Besides, this is a bowling alley. You’ll ruin your pants. Not that these are good pants, but the floor is basically beer.”

Stannis was ready to say something very unsportsman-like to his brother when he happened to catch the winner of the junior league accepting his golden pin.

“In your face, Sansa,” Joffrey crowed. It was then Stannis’s heart very nearly stopped; his nephew was wearing _street shoes_ to bowl.


	3. Prom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars-inthe-sky prompted _"Using elephants to conquer prom" sounds like a kooky Game of Thrones high school AU prompt. I’M JUST SAYING._ and I finally wrote it nine months later [here](http://diaphenia.tumblr.com/post/125761820177/stars-inthe-sky-said-using-elephants-to-conquer)

 

“I can’t believe you’d bring that cow-eyed idiot to prom,” Cersei hissed, her complicated updo still in place even as she shook with rage.

“And you brought our cousin.” Jaime smiled at her, and Lancel. “Are you mad I didn’t bring a cousin too? Lord knows we have a million of them, but haven’t we shook the family tree enough?”

She glanced around furiously, clearly worried people had heard. But no one had, so she swept into the prom, sans date, making what could only be a grand entrance.

“Sometimes I think about joining the priesthood,” Lancel said. “Like today. Today I’m definitely thinking about it.”

“Just keep her away from the wine,” Jaime said.

Lancel gave him an arched look.

“She’s still my sister.”

Lancel went inside too, leaving Jaime alone with Brienne.

“Always lovely to see her,” Brienne said. She clutched her cloak tightly around her neck, not letting even a bit of her blue dress show.

“Babe. You have to take that off. If you’re going to blind everyone, might as well be at the beginning of the night, so we’re don’t have to pose for selfies.”

“I will,” she said. “Later. Perhaps after prom.”

“’I’m sure the dress looks fine. Margaery chose that dress.”

“Margaery does not have my best interests at heart,” Brienne said.

“Margaery has only your best interests at heart,” Margaery said, slipping in the entryway. “Now come on, Bri, we talked about this in the limo. How are you going to show the world your fabulous legs from under this silly cloak?”

“Hey, I picked out that cloak,” Renly said, dragging Loras behind him.

“And it looks terrible on her,” Loras said. “Though I look great in it.”

Jaime thought Loras also looked silly in a similar cloak, but at least he’d had the good sense to leave his in the limo.

Margaery fussed around Brienne cheerfully, managing to slip the cloak from off her shoulders despite the height difference.

Brienne immediately threw up an arm to shield herself, but shocking blue dress was still clearly visible. She looked to Jaime for reassurance.

“S’ok,” he said, his heart pounding.

“There’s my lovely girl,” Margaery purred. “Your legs could inspire men to war, not that they need us as an excuse.”

“Your legs only need to inspire me,” Jaime said. “And no one else at prom.”

“I’m not looking to inspire anyone,” Brienne said, uncurling to her full height. “Only to finish high school and get out of King’s Landing.”

“I do hope we’ll still being seeing each other after graduation,” Margaery said, linking arms with Brienne.

“As much as I love watching you hit on my date,” Jaime said, though he didn’t love it one bit. “Don’t you have your own date to attend to?”

“He’s setting off bottle rockets in the parking lot,” Margaery said with a smile. ‘So energetic.”

“Lovely,” Jaime said. “Well, shall we?”

He led the five of them under the ballooned entryway.

***

Margaery ran into Cersei by the punch bowl. “Don’t you look wonderful. That dress is fit for a prom queen,” Margaery said, embracing Cersei just a touch too tightly.

Cersei looked sour as always, but her dress was a lovely shade of Lannister red, and besides, Margaery could afford to be magnanimous.

“Well,” Cersei sniffed. “That’s what Varys says, and you know he’s always got an ear to the ground. He talks to all these peasants.”

“And some people suspect it will go to a junior, but I tell them, I don’t even want the crown. I do promise you can have it, if I get elected.”

Cersei’s eyes flared. “This is the problem with democracy, they just allow any guttersnipe to aspire to better things.”

Margaery smiled sweetly. “Isn’t that your brother?”

“Yes, I know Jaime’s–”

“Your other brother.”

“He’s a _sophomore_.” Cersei slammed down her clearly spiked punch before stomping off. “Are you kidding me?”

***

Tyrion drank deeply from his flask. There was something satisfying about knowing adults were too skittish around him to say a damn thing about his bad behavior. It didn’t even begin to type the scales of justice in his favor, but it did make school events better.

He spotted Brienne in the crowd, not that it was hard, between the blond hair and the fact that she had his big brother following her around like a lost puppy dog.

Tyrion slipped through the crowd towards her, but ran into Jon Snow instead.

Jon Snow’s eyeliner matched his suit, which seemed about right. “Tyrion,” he said.

Tyrion glanced over his shoulder, just in case there was another, lesser Tyrion Jon was talking to.

“Jon Snow. I didn’t even know they made fur accents for suits.”

“Ygritte won’t talk to me anymore, not after I accidentally insulted the Wildlings.” He glanced over at the lady in question, who looked radiant as always. “Not all Wildlings, just a lot of them.”

“You’re like a hashtag come to life. Have you considered talking to Robb about this?” Tyrion asked. “Robb seems like he’s probably insulted some people accidentally.”

“Didn’t you hear? Robb graduated in December to join ROTC.”

“Sounds like a lot of early mornings and extra laps,” Tyrion said. “No thank you.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t take you anyway, on account of your height.”

Tyrion had not drank enough for this conversation. “Listen, Jon Snow, just apologize to the woman, and mean it.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“And try not to speak again in her presence. Your looks are by far your best quality, you wouldn’t want to spoil that.”

“Tha–” Jon Snow snapped his mouth shut, giving Tyrion a finger gun and a nod.

***

Dany looked over at Mr. Mormont, shadowed in the corner. “Thanks for helping me with this.”

“You’re wise beyond your years,” Mr. Mormont said. “But aren’t you missing prom?”

“Who could possibly care about something so juvenile as prom? I just think these circuses perpetuate animal cruelty, slavery even, and for them to be using school land, paid for by the taxpayers– it’s absurd.” She smoothed her hair down, trying to look authoritative.

Missandei popped up, followed by Grey Worm. “We’re definitely alone. Those circus owners won’t know what hit them.”

“We had to take out a guard,” Grey Worm said. “But we took care of him.”

“We gave him twenty dollars to scram,” Daario said. “Nothing illegal. This time.” A stint in juvie would do that, Dany thought.

“All we do is let my elephants go,” Dany said. “And then they’ll march on to freedom. And justice.”

She led them to the truck that housed both elephants, feeling righteous. She spared a glance towards her high school. It was decked out in lights, illuminating bored limo drivers, smokers, and a few kids playing with fireworks. Inside, she knew, there were children dancing to popular music, fighting over plastic crowns and grinding. Pathetic. 

“Who has the mallet?” She reached out for the mallet of justice. She’d dreamed about this.

“I can’t let you do this,” Mr Mormont said. “It would be irresponsible of me, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“That’s kind,” Missandei said.

“I meant all of you kids, of course.” Mr Mormont brought the mallet down, once, twice, three times. It broke into pieces on the third attempt.

Dany, almost giddy, lifted the handle, offering the poor beasts their freedom. “Onward!” she cried. “Leave this cage and take your rightful place in the world!”

The elephants stumbled out of their truck, towards freedom. Dany lifted her hands east, where they would be able to escape to their freedom. The smaller elephant followed her hands, raising a trunk in what could only be solidarity.

Instead, the larger elephant stomped the ground, then took off west, towards King’s Landing High.

“Shit,” Dany said.

  



End file.
